The Faithful Departed
by Shaded Emerald-Eyes
Summary: Two men, one woman, one mission. The truth is stretched and lies are formed. Deceptions are made and someone is always watching. Loyalty and relationships are to put to the test. An undercover mission to smoke out the rat. Pls R&R! DASEY!
1. Chapter 1

**The Faithful Departed**

Chapter 1: How It All Began

**A/N**: Wow I'm finally doing this! I usually write stories for anime, which I currently have a couple I do need to finish, but I've always wanted to write a Life with Derek story for so long even though it is an alternate universe. I an madly in love with Michael Seater, so he is my motivation. Anyways I hope you guys enjoy this if not, stop me now while I'm ahead. I will warn you though, this is rated "M" for a reason. There's gonna be some heavy languages and some sexual material and maybe even gore. I know I probably should start out with something small being my first LWD fic and all to get a feel of the characters but I think I can handle this. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any characters from Life With Derek, just borrowing them for the sake of Entertainment. I'm also basing this a little or maybe a lot upon the movie "The Departed" which I do not own either but no worries it's not gonna be exactly as the movie. It's going to be different yet share the same idea.

**Summary:** Two men, one woman, one mission. The truth is stretched and lies are formed. Deceptions are made and someone is always watching. Loyalty and relationships are to put to the test. An undercover mission to smoke out the rat.

"_I don't want to be a product of my environment. I want my environment to be a product...of me."_

A dark man, walked through the streets of Ontario. A neighborhood, if it could be called that, where every street corner of the city, a fight was happening, or some sort of drug deal.

Standing across the street, Paul Costello stares, behind his dark sunglasses at a small Canadian shop. The shop is one that sells papers, sundries, fountain drinks...and fronts a bookie operation. Paul walks in the shop and looks over at the owner, whom is dealing with a customer.

The owner, even before Paul had walked in, noticed him. Paul gave the owner a smirk and nod of his head, which the owner had acknowledged. A small boy with short spikey brown hair, around the age of 14 sat a few stools away from Costello and the owner but he watched them with curiosity in his brown eyes.

The owner pasted by his daughter over to the cashier register. His daughter was setting a plate of scrambled eggs with beacon in front of the young boy but like the young boy her eyes were trained on Paul. The owner pulled twenty five dollars from the register and handed it discreetly over to Paul. Paul lifted and eyebrow at the two tens, and a five laying in his hand.

"Colin, don't make me come back here for this?" Paul said, leaning over the counter top. He turned his head to the side giving the owner's daughter a once over. He pulled back from the counter as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

"Carmen's developing into a fine young lady." Paul said, pulling out a cigarette and placing it in his mouth. Carmen cringed at his lustful stare but continued to tend to her customers "You should be proud."

Paul grabbed a lighter that was sitting with a box of other lighters on the counter and lit his cigarette. He took one puff from it and finally acknowledged the boy that's been staring with interest.

"What's your name kid?" He asked blowing out smoke. The kid jumped at the sudden question but answered none the less.

"Max." he responded.

"You Johnny Miller's kid?" Paul continued to ask.

"Yes." Max nods.

"You live with your grandmother?"

"Yeah."

"How about school, you doing good in school?"

"Yes sir."

" That's good. I did good in school too. They call that a paradox." Paul said, smirking. The twenty five dollars that he still kept in his other hand, he reached down for Max's and placed it in his open palm.

"You ever want to earn a little extra cash, you come by Elle street. You know where I am on Elle street." Paul pulled back and walked out of the shop.

**SEVERAL YEARS LATER**

Max Miller sat in a desk that was facing a clock, wearing a police trainee's uniform. He opened up a notebook, and started taking notes as the instructor spoke.

"The slug enters the skull by forming a small entrance hole. Blood and brain matter is ejected backwards from this hole." The instructor said pointing a metal ball point stick at his diagram of a bullet entering a skull. " The bullet, which may expand, fragment or tumble, then passes through the brain…"

**Tic….tock…..tic**

A young man with unruly brown hair and matching eyes, sat in his own desk in a different class room, filled with other police trainees. A number two pencil sat on top of his paper. He glanced down at his test real quick to make sure his information was correct, and continued to stare at the clock above him.

"Begin." The instructor said

Derek Venturi picked up his pencils and started circling multiple choice questions with ease. Other trainees were starting to sweat over the pressure.

"So she says, 'You never finish anything Ralph'" Said Ralph, another cadet in training at the Police Academy. He ran alongside Derek on the track field, sweat dripping off the side of their faces. " You finish the police course you get taken care of again baby. So after graduation, I get a blow job again." 

"That's great, your mother must be a great person." Derek joked. He chuckled noticing that Ralph stopped behind him. " I was only kidding, Ralph."

"Yeah, go fuck yourself, Venturi." Ralph retorted, before running up to Derek again. "I'm just finding ways to get ahead, man."

"To where?" Derek asked panting with each word he spoke but keeping his focus. Ralph not able to come up with an answer continued to jog alongside Derek silently.

"Cadets!" The drill Instructor called after his trainees. They all gathered in a single file line across the field, drenched in sweat from all the extraneous activities.

"This is not the regular police. This is the state police. Your training will illustrate the difference. What's the difference?" He started to walk down towards his men pasting by Derek and Ralph.

"Rage issues and a low IQ." Derek muttered under his breath next to Ralph, trying to keep a laugh from escaping his mouth but failed which sounded more like a snort.

"You say something, Venturi?" The Drill Instructor stopped his pacing and walked back towards Derek to face him.

"Sir, I was agreeing with you about our obvious superiority to other forms of police, sir." Derek explained, keeping his eyes leveled with the Drill Instructor. Everyone knew of Derek Venturi, whether it was his family background or his connections with the Canadian mafia, or even for his smartass remarks but no one was gonna out right admit that.

"We're not superior, we're the best." He countered back.

"Sir, yes, sir!" Derek agreed.

* * *

You can hear bagpipes playing and gun shots firing off in the air. The graduating class of 2008 of The State Police Graduation Ceremony is underway. Line after line of paramilitary-looking graduates sit and wait as the Instructor gives them their speeches. Max sits among his graduating class.

"The Ontario State Police has a long tradition of excellence. Your graduation today solidifies your acceptance into one of the finest law enforcement agencies in our nation. As the Governor of the Commonwealth of Canada, I am confident each and every one of you will serve with distinction, honor and integrity."

After the Ceremony was over, Families gather around the graduated trainees, Max stood amongst the crowd lonely, with no one to congratulate him.

Max had no family, so he wasn't upset by this at all. His father was a well known priest, who had unexpectedly died from being jumped by some random robber and his mother died after he was born from birth complications. He lived with his grandmother up until she died of old age but he was really raised by Paul Costello, whom he regards as his only family.

Max continued to stand amongst the happy families, but he soon noticed a black '98 Oldsmobile pull up to the side of the curve. Paul waved at Max from the passenger side. Driving was, his most faithful henchman, Sheldon Schlepper. Paul always confided him with his dirty work and Max grew up to trust him as well. Seeing them, Max discreetly walks over to the car, jumping into the back seat.

"You're half way to the top, kid." Paul smirked, looking back at Max.

"I graduate top in my class, Paul. Pretty soon I'll be detective and you'll never have to worry about being busted by a cop ever. You'll be protected for life." Max said, leaning back casually on the seat.

"Just what I like to hear from you, Max. School's out. You earned it. Yeah, no more teachers, no more books." All laughed before driving off.

* * *

;

"Congratulations on passing the detective exam, and welcome to the Special Investigation Unit." Said Captain Queenin. He was the head of it all or at least in charge of the under covers. Next to him, stood his partner Sergeant Sam Monroe.

"Whoop-di fuckin' do." Sam said tonelessly. He sat against the back desk behind Queenin. The glass windows behind him had a great view of Ontario.

"We won't be working directly together, you'll be working for Captain Ellerby, but I like to see everybody." Queenin continued as if he hadn't heard Sam's comment. "You're a worker, you rise fast."

"Like a twelve year old's dick." both Max and Queenin turned to look at Monroe but he stood with his arms folded as if he hadn't said anything but Max had kept his cool demeanor.

"Thank you, Sergeant." Max said.

"My pleasure." Sam shrugged it off. Max than looked back at Queenin.

"Thank you sir." With that said Max, turned to walk out of the office. Outside a meek woman sat at her desk, picking up phone calls and shuffling papers, appearing as if she were doing something when in truth she was just waiting for Max to come out.

"Congratulations, Detective Miller." She said, giving Max one of those flirtatious smiles that read 'we'll be seeing each again'. Max had merely stopped by her desk and gave that rich pearl white smile that women would swoon over.

"Thanks hon." He looked down at her name plate and read that her name was Karen Joyce. He looked back at her and gave her a small nod and continued his way out to his unit in the force. What he didn't notice that someone else was waiting to speak with Captain Queenin.

Once Max had left, Karen's smile had dropped and her face turned cold as she regarded the other cadet, looking at him as if he were anybody else that past by her desk each morning.

"You can go in now." She said, without even turning to look at him. She continued to do her paperwork on her computer.

Derek sits in a chair next to the doorway that he was expected to enter. The door that would determine his future. He sat with his arms rested above his knees and face in between his hands. Derek had not notice Max walk in the office nor out, it didn't matter to him because he didn't know the guy. His mind was only set on this interview and where it would take him.

Derek stood from his chair and walked into the office with a cool air lingering around him as if nothing can hurt him. He stands in front of Queenin's desk, with Sam still leaning against the back filing cabinet. They both take Derek in, but their eyes would not tell what either thought of him, as he stood in front of him with arms firmly resting against his sides.

"You can sit." Queenin said, breaking the silence. Derek nods and does what he says, sitting down on the leather chair that was next to him. Sergeant Monroe looks at Derek aggressively.

"So…" Queenin continues "Do you know what we do here? My Section?"

Derek could only imagine what the answer would be but he still didn't want to answer unless he knew he was right so he said.

"Sir, yes, sir, I have an idea…." Derek was immediately interrupted by Sam.

"Whoa, let's say you have no idea and leave it there. No idea. Zip, none. If you had an idea about what we do we would not be good at what we do. We would be cunts. Are you calling us cunts?"

Derek sat silently not use to taking such verbal abuse from someone. He'd usually straighten the guy out before a negative thought was uttered, but he knew if he were to deck the guy out it'll land him straight in a jail cell. Derek knew the guy was appearing to be tough but he kept his eyes leveled with Queenin.

"Staff Sergeant Monroe has a style of his own. I'm afraid we all have to deal with it." Queenin said as he rifled through Derek's file.

"You have family connections down in Southie. Through your father. Tell us about good ol' George Venturi." Sam asked, smirking.

"My father was a carpet layer for Jordan Marsh." Derek answered but knew that was a lie. Sam knew it was a lie too because he was first to rectify it.

"Your father was a small time bookie who tended bar at the Vets in Toronto. He got popped by Nicastro in '95. They found his body out by the airport. " Sam countered.

"That's right." Derek was biting the inside of his lip. His family history isn't one of his favorite subjects only because it was so dark and shady. "I remember his funeral."

"Closed casket?" Monroe pressed on cruelly. He already knew the answer to this.

"Yes. That's right." Derek continued to answer to the best of his ability. He didn't want to give this guy the satisfaction that these questions were starting to irate him.

"You tell anybody at Thompson High- that is, before you got kicked out for whaling on a gym teacher with a folding chair - you had an uncle met his demise like that?" Not hearing an answer from Derek, Monroe pushed himself off the desk and walked until he was standing in front of him. He leaned forward so he was eye level with Derek. Derek still says nothing.

"I got a question. How fucked up are you?" Monroe pulls back, not really expecting an answer. He grabs the file that Queenin tossed next to him and opens it up.

"Let's look at the rest of the family tree. Your maggot uncle Larry Venturi--he's another goof-- got busted selling guns to federal officers. Among many, many, many other departures from, ah, "normative behavior"."

During the whole interrogation, Queenin had kept his eyes on Derek waiting for a reaction. His specs glinted under the fluorescent light.

" What's this got to do with me?' Derek asked, letting his frustrations show.

"Why are you pretending to be a cop?" Sam countered back with another question.

* * *

A/N: Woah guys, this was getting a little to long for my liking but I love it. I wish I can add more but either I'd give to much away or you'd guys would start falling out of your seats from boredom (Let's hope not). Anyways, yeah, let me if I should continue or not. This story is going to evolve a lot and I'm going to have fun twisting the plot around. I just need your opinions and please review! Constrictive criticisms are always welcomed. 


	2. Chapter 2

The Faithful Departed

Chapter 2: The Mission

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Life With Derek, just borrowing them for the sake of Entertainment. I'm also basing this a little or maybe a lot upon the movie "The Departed" which I do not own either but no worries it's not gonna be exactly as the movie. It's going to be different yet share the same idea.

Last Time:

"You tell anybody at Thompson High- that is, before you got kicked out for whaling on a gym teacher with a folding chair - you had an uncle met his demise like that?" Not hearing an answer from Derek, Monroe pushed himself off the desk and walked until he was standing in front of him. He leaned forward so he was eye level with Derek. Derek still says nothing.

"I got a question. How fucked up are you?" Monroe pulls back, not really expecting an answer. He grabs the file that Queenin tossed next to him and opens it up.

"Let's look at the rest of the family tree. Your maggot uncle Larry Venturi--he's another goof-- got busted selling guns to federal officers. Among many, many, many other departures from, ah, "normative behavior"."

During the whole interrogation, Queenin had kept his eyes on Derek waiting for a reaction. His specs glinted under the fluorescent light.

" What's this got to do with me?' Derek asked, letting his frustrations show.

"Why are you pretending to be a cop?" Sam countered back with another question.

Now:

Members of the investigative detective gathered in the briefing room, among them Max took his seat across from a pretty blonde. She stared at him with a smile, one that he returned. Continuing to send suggestive looks at each other, Captain Ellerby started his briefing.

"This unit is new, and you are the newest members of it. You have been selected for it on the basis of intelligence and aptitude." He spoke pacing in front of the briefing table, eyeing each member on his unit.

"This is an elite unit. Our job is to smash--or at least marginally disrupt--organized crime in this city by our own efforts and by enhanced cooperation with the FBI, represented here by Agent Frank Lazio." Ellerby grabs the remote in front of him and turns on the project. A picture of Agent Fran Lazio appears on the projecting screen. "and we will do it. And by organized crime in this city...you know who we mean."

Ellerby pushes the button on the remote and the image changes, showing a few surveillance shots on the screen. The first shot, was a picture of Paul Costello in sunglasses standing in front of the Auto body shop with George Venturi.

That's George Venturi...that's an old picture. Jackie met his demise." Ellerby said, showing another picture of George Venturi laying dead in the marshes with a gunshot wound to his heart. "Last known photo."

"Sheldon Schlepper, is the number one man in Costello's group." The screen changes, showing a mug shot of various sides of Sheldon. "We've done a briefing book. Read up. Do your jobs and you will rise fast. You're in the best position in the department. Let's go to work."

Max gathers his briefing booking as the others do the same, and heads out of the briefing room.

* * *

We have a question. You want to be a cop, or do you want to appear to be a cop. It's an honest question. Lot of guys want to appear to be cops. Gun. Badge. Pretend they're on TV..." Queenin asked as he looked at Derek. 

"Sir, with all due respect, sir, what is it you want from me?" Derek asked back honestly.

"Hey asshole, he can't help you." Sam interjected. "I know what you are, and what you aren't. I'm the best friend you ever had on the face of the earth. I'm gonna help you understand something: You're no fuckin' cop."

"He's right." Queenin agreed. Derek looks at him questionably. "We deal in deceptions here. But what we don't deal with is self-deception. In five years, you might be anything else in the world, but you won't be a Canada State trooper."

"You sure of that?" Derek asked, his face looking grim.

"I'm sure of that." Queenin affirmed.

"Guaranteed." Sam interjected as well. Queenin rifles through Derek's file and looking up from his papers he says, "You don't have much family."

"I don't have any family." Derek said.

* * *

_Derek is in a hospital. He sits in a room littered with heavy machinery and IV tubes around him. Derek's mother lies as if floating in her bed. Tubes, lights. A bald head on a barely-dented pillow. He holds her small fragile white hands in his warm ones._

_The door opens as Derek looks up to see his Uncle Larry standing by the door, motioning Derek to come outside._

_Derek kisses the back of Nora Venturi's cold knuckles, before rising and making his way out the room where his uncle waited for him patiently. HE shuts the door behind and leans against the wall waiting for his uncle to speak._

"_What's this I hear from Lizzie about you becoming a policeman?" His uncle asked almost bewildered but angry as well._

"_You mean Lizzie who was the only one who came to my father's funeral? That Lizzie?" Derek questioned sarcastically._

"_That Lizzie." Larry answered not amused by his antics._

"_Not much to it Uncle Larry."_

"_Are you trying to prove something to the family?" His uncle continued questioning._

"_When you say 'family', what do you mean? You?" You could feel the bitterness burning at the edge of his tongue._

"_You always question everything don't you?"_

"_Yeah, well maybe it would have done you some good to have a question from time to time." Derek retorted. " 'Am I an asshole?', 'Are my kids a mess?', 'Is my wife a money-grubbing whore?' Those are questions. "_

"_Watch it," Was all Larry could muster but the anger showed in his face but Derek ignored him._

"_Have I been good to my dying sister or am I just pretending to be?" Derek said bitterly, "Too late now, right?"_

"_Do you need some money for the funeral?" His uncle mustered a small sigh of defeat as he reached for the pocket of his black trench coat that laid on top of his arm. Derek stopped him forcefully placing his hand on top of his arm._

"_When my mother dies we don't have any connection. You got it?"_

* * *

Lights flip on, as Max and a real estate agent walk through the front door of Max's soon to be new apartment. The living room itself was enough to fit a set of fancy couches and a loveseat and maybe even a 24'inch HD flat screen T.V.

The far side of the apartment was made of bug sliding glass doors with a balcony that over looked the city of Ontario. Max stared out the windows watching kids play across the street in front of a big cathedral. All in all the apartment itself was worth more than a cop's salary.

"This is it. Nice. You've got high ceilings, parquet floors. There's a lock on the fridge in case you have eating issues... Joke." The realtor chuckled at his own attempt of a joke but realized that Max, clearly impressed with the view outside, wasn't laughing along with him. "...not a very good one. So you're a policeman?"

"I'm a State Police Detective." Max replied almost annoyed, keeping his gaze outside watching every activity going around. The realtor almost bit his lip to keep from rolling his eyes at him.

"Oh yes, a State Police Detective. Are you a married State Policeman?" The realtor kept pestering.

"...No." Max said coldly, finally tearing his gaze away from the balcony to look at the little man beside him.

"Oh cause its big and I wonder if a cop..."

"I have a cosigner." Max interrupted.

"Oh that's good. You tend to have a house guest. That's cool." He stammered.

"Just give me the papers." Max demanded out of annoyance. Both him and the realtor got down to signing the lease forms on the apartment.

* * *

"So what do I do?" Derek asked. He was madly craving a cigarette or anything that would keep his mind form all this.

"I have a special assignment for you. For years this department has been finding a way to get Paul Costello and nothing, I mean nobody has ever found the will to bag this guy. I see a fire in you that I see in one else and I now know that you're the one that can bring Costello down" Queenin explained.

"By the way, this isn't police work for peanuts. There's money behind this operation. You won't be paid as a cop, but there is a bonus involved. Tax free." Queenin writes an estimated figure on a slip of paper and hands it to Derek. Derek reads the slip and looks back up at the two, clearly impressed with the numbers.

"Lucky Canadian. All that and you're still young enough to fuck undergraduates." Sam said, crudely but he was smirking at Derek.

"We can't conceal

that you've been a trainee. You'll be convicted of a crime. We're thinking that a guilty plea to assault and battery might make sense." Said Queenin as he placed his hands together on top of his desk. 

"Given your nature." Sam added as well.

"You'll serve enough jail time to convince anyone that it's no set-up. You'll be on probation and will be seeking counseling. The whole nine yards." Queenin continued.

"When do I start?" Was all Derek asked.

* * *

_The Priest's cassock whipping along with the wind as he read over his sermon. A few mourners gathered around, mostly those close to Nora Venturi, but Derek stood out the most. He had no connections with those that knew his mother._

_After the sermon was done and his mother was pull down into the grave hole. Derek stood above her, alone, in the pouring rain. His picked his head up, bangs shielding his brown eyes, and looked over at his mother's wreath._

_A certain card hanging from the wreath catches his attention and as he pulls it off he sees a picture of the Virgin Mary and underneath it read: 'Heaven holds the faithful departed. –P. Costello.'_

_Derek's eyes darken, as he holds the card in his hand. Giving his mother's grave site one last glances he turns to walk away, crumbling the card in his hand._

* * *

A/N: Well there's Chapter 2! I would've had it a lot sooner but I wanted to make sure it was right before I did. Like I said, right now I'm trying to introduce the main characters and the basic plot of the story so again sorry if it seems slow or if it seems to be jumping to quickly….if that makes sense to anyone. Anyways Casey will definitely be introduced soon. I don't want to see in the next chapter, could be a possibility but if not than in chapter 4 for sure. There's still more twists and turns to come so be prepared for that. So keep telling what you guys think and review! Oh and thanks to those that have reviewed as well. 


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